


Chrysanthemum

by Syorein



Series: The Bouquet [4]
Category: New Dangan Ronpa V3: Everyone's New Semester of Killing
Genre: Gen, I’m emo about ouma, No beta we publish like men, Ouma not Oma, can u tell how I feel, i wrote this at 4 am
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-02
Updated: 2018-04-02
Packaged: 2019-04-17 07:13:40
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 308
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14183688
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Syorein/pseuds/Syorein
Summary: Kokichi Ouma exists in all forms of the word.He tells himself this as he blooms lies on his tongue.(Ouma Character Study)





	Chrysanthemum

**Author's Note:**

> “Having seen and felt the end, you have willed the means to the realization of the end.”
> 
> —Thomas Troward

He loses himself along the way.

It’s to be expected.

He’s lived so long as a lie, in the husk of something that possibly does not exist, that he deludes himself into the false reality of it all.

There is never a stop to his spider web—it’s building and building into a snowball that will inevitably crash and burn into the ground, leaving nothing left.

And it’s not like he can even stop himself at this point.

He’s always had their final destination in mind, and if he ever ended up caught in it—then so be it.

Words spill off his tongue, truth and lie mixing together into an amalgamation of everything that makes him alive.

Kokichi Ouma bleeds his will through to someone who he believes will get somewhere with this plan, and his brain goes fuzzy with the poison running alongside his blood.

The script builds itself from his cluttered mind, images and references are constructed along the movements of his marker as he desperately fills it up with everything he could ever prophesize.

His hand stutters above the page— _Momota will never chance the deaths of the others_ —but he clams down on that thought with a viced grip of adrenaline and he pulls through with every aching muscle as his breaths start cutting.

Everything is short circuiting, and he only has the enough strength to wring out a final lie to his executor.

Now, there is only him and himself.

Pain is licking his open wounds, words of a thousand lies _truths_ pouring through his head as the clock ticks down.

He breathes.

There is the truth, and there is the inevitable.

All that exists is him, Kokichi Ouma, and everything that he has made of himself in this short time.

He is...dead _alive._

(He wonders if everything was just a—)

**Author's Note:**

> I actually had like 2k of this but then it went off my normal format for character studies so I cut it down to this
> 
> Ouma always makes me sad when I finish writing him
> 
> Also, if anyone can find the joke, I’ll be happy and satisfied lmao (ps. it’s a really shitty joke—more like irony, but it’s there)


End file.
